


You Are Alone

by EmmyJay



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crossover, Episode: s03e12-e13 The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords, Gen, Manipulation, Memory Loss, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyJay/pseuds/EmmyJay
Summary: England has a meeting with his new Prime Minister, who will make everything all better....taptaptaptap...
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	You Are Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in May of 2011 (apparently when I was supposed to be studying for some final or another). Revised/reposted August 2020.

_...taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap..._

England wasn't sure when he had started tapping his fingers so much. Sometime in the past year and a half, possibly a result of the election stress. It wouldn't be unheard of—ever since the mess with Harriet Jones, he had acquired his fair share of nervous habits. Why, America had commented on it, just the other day.

America commented on a lot of things, lately: about England, about Harold Saxon, _I don't like that guy, Arthur_ , and England thought...

_...taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap..._

...he thought...

_...taptaptaptap..._

"Sir?"

The nation snapped back into focus. Saxon was leaning across the table, the fingers of one hand resting lightly on England's wrist. He had an expectant look on his face, and England realized that he had been asked a question.

"I'm sorry," he laughed at himself, "I must be going daft. What was the question?"

He had expected Saxon to be annoyed with him, offended by the Nation's lack of focus. Instead, however, Saxon smiled, and his smile reminded England of a parent looking at their most beloved child. It made him feel safe, and when Saxon withdrew his hand, he found himself longing to grab for it.

"Long day?” Saxon asked indulgently, and the moment he said it, England became aware of just how tired he was, something he had not noticed previously. Surely, it had not been so exhausting a day that he did not even recognize his own fatigue?

"I...yes, I suppose it was."

_...taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap..._

"You know, England," Saxon began, reclining in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, "this country—you, I mean—you haven't been doing too well, have you?" He gave the nation a pitying look. "All this...chaos, this madness. You've been sick; you need someone who will take care of you, make you _all_ better."

There it was again—the ache, the uneasy feeling in England's gut, as though he really **was** sick. And the cause of that sickness was close, almost close enough to touch, to name, to banish...

"What you need, England, my good friend—"

_...taptaptaptap..._

"—is a Doctor."

_...taptaptaptap..._

(It slipped away again, gone like fog through his fingers.)

"Ooh, that was a good line. You don't mind if I use that in today's press conference, do you?"

England shook his head to clear it, his thoughts re-focusing around the sound of Saxon's voice. "Hmm? Oh, no, of course not.” He smiled, and Saxon smiled back, all confidence and security; the sort of man who could be trusted, wholly and absolutely.

Yes, England thought, this man was exactly what he needed. Everything was going to be fine now.

_...taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap..._

Everything was going to be...

_...taptaptaptap..._


End file.
